King of Fire, Queen of Night
by MoonFallGiantsWrath
Summary: They had always asked him, 'Why her? What makes her so special' The king would simply grin and walk away without even giving an answer. He would never tell anyone the story of what had happened during the Oasis Rebellion. Especially how he, Gorotdorf the Flame King, now owed his life to a young girl named Kasima. A Prequel Story to Ganondorf the Beast King


It was early morning in Gerudo Valley when a woman stumbled into the bedroom of the king. He woke up immediately, not from the sound of her crying but from the smell. She had a horribly infected wound on her side, the work of a desert wolf; it was black and swollen with a putrid mixture of blood and pus. In the brief look the king gave it before he was nearly sick, he noticed her intestines had been severed and a torn piece was visible in the hole.

Ayabem knew she was dying. She'd known the moment the large jaws of the sand-colored wolf tore away a large chunk of her waist and shattered several of her ribs. She also knew that the information she had was more important then the life of one woman— and she had to tell the king before the madness of the infection took her.

"My king," she gasped, "I would have been here days ago if it weren't for the wolf. The rebels took the Spirit Temple from us, they killed everyone." She would have collapsed to the floor if the king hadn't caught her. He supported her by draping one of her hands over his shoulder, being careful to avoid the infected hole in her side. He intended to take her to the infirmary, even though there was no chance of saving her, but at least this way she could die in relative comfort instead of out in the desert dust.

He left her feverish body to spasm in the relative cool of the infirmary, and then set out for the center of the village. He paid no attention to the blood that stained his dust colored tunic, there were more important matters than a bloodstain.

There had never been a worse civil war than this in all the recorded history of the tribe. Initially a group of several hundred thieves had split from the tribe to occupy the Desert Oasis, their intention was to end the royal line and to establish Hyrule as an ally.

Under normal circumstances a rebellion like this could have been wiped out in mere weeks, but because of the sheer number of women who had defected to the Oasis Rebellion, their army had a large amount of power. However, their actions had not been of much concern until they had taken the Spirit Temple. If they somehow found the Sword, then any hope of victory would be lost.

Ghahin was a fickle spirit, the ritual was proof of that, He chose those who had the magical power to control it, and Tayfaba, it seemed, might have that amount of power.

The thought of Ghahin in the possession of Tayfaba made his blood boil, but there were more important matters to deal with at the moment. He threw back his dark-skinned head, causing his flaming hair to fly as he called, "All warriors to me! To me! A matter of grave importance has arisen and the rebels now threaten the line of royalty itself!"

There were around six hundred women in the Gerudo Village, about three hundred had joined the rebellion, and another two hundred were currently on thieving missions in Hyrule. The remaining hundred were now crowded in front of the king waiting for him to give them instructions. A small group was at the edge of the crowd, and they made no attempt to try and integrate themselves with the rest of the women.

The reason was obvious. They were the Lower Tribe. All Gerudo women bred with Hylians, partly for convenience, their main purpose was that the children of Hylians inherited the powers of magic that a Gerudo did not typically possess. Occasionally a child was born looking like her father, possessing either black, brown or, in rare cases, blonde hair as well as skin several shades lighter than the dark brown of normal tribe members. Typically if the child had not been killed after birth she would be given a suicide mission later in life. The small crowd of ten were the ones skilled enough to survive these missions.

One woman circled the edge to the front of the crowd to better hear the king. She had mahogany eyes and hair dark as a starless night. When she reached the front, she tried to push her way into a gap near the center. A moment later she was on the ground with a handprint burning on her left cheek.

Sernota, a tall girl of nineteen with flamingly red hair and skin of a perfect dark brown stepped forward, sneering at the younger girl as she lay on the ground looking up at her with hatred-filled eyes.

She turned to reenter the crowd when there came a sound like a dry branch snapping followed by a scream of pain mixed with fury. Blood poured from Sernota's shattered nose. The held back a chuckle, the Asko girl had punched her – actually _punched _her! The dark haired girl was standing at the edge of the crowd looking at Sernota calmly, any trace of anger was gone from her features. Her fist, the knuckles now stained with blood, was raised and ready to deliver another strike.

Sernota regained her former sneer, which had a decidedly more insane look than before because of the blood still flowing down her face from her crooked nose. She reached to the belt on her waist and drew her scimitar. She looked ready to separate the Asko girl's head from her shoulders. She took several steps toward the girl and then fell to the ground knocked out cold and nearly goring herself on her own sword.

The girl stepped over the motionless, but still breathing, body of Sernota and took a place in the crowd close to the king. None of the other women attempted to stop her. The king raised a hand to silence the muttering that had broken out. A fight was always entertaining but now was not a good time.

When his tribe had settled into silence again the king cleared his throat before beginning. "As I was saying, taking back our temple is the most important task for us right now. I intend to personally reclaim it from Tayfaba." He immediately got the reaction he'd expected, looks of shock on every face in the crowd.

Well, almost every face. He noticed that the Asko girl was staring up at him with a critical expression on her face, as if she wanted to ask him why he would do such a reckless and _stupid_ thing by himself. Especially when he didn't need to.

"Obviously I won't be going alone. I need a group of no more than five to accompany me as guards." When he said nothing else the women began to slowly disperse, to sharpen weapons, repair armor, or simply go back to sleep. He knew that they all hoped to be chosen, he hadn't taken a wife yet and all the women were eager to become his bride.

Only three people were left, the king, the dark haired girl, and the unconscious body of Sernota. The girl continued to stare at him, but she now seemed quite shy because it was only the two of them.

He decided in that moment what he would do. "I need you to follow me. If I need to I can have you escorted." He had adopted the flat soft voice of authority that it seemed only a king could produce. The girl nodded, a pink blush coloring her cheeks. He could hear her following behind him as he began to make his way back to his rooms.

When they had both entered he turned around and saw the look of surprise on her face, his house was much larger than the rooms the women had to share with each other. She looked ready to investigate the entire place. The king took a seat in one of his sturdy wooden chairs and gestured for her to do the same. She sat down quickly, almost overturning the chair.

"I saw what you did to Sernota. You hit her in the shoulder with an enchanted knife, that was a very dirty technique." She began to stutter something that was probably an apology when he held up a hand to silence her. "Strategy like that is very useful. It's also obvious you have magic to spare, both of those traits should be useful when we go to reclaim the temple."

He saw her face turn almost as red as his own flame colored hair. "Your Majesty, you said 'we'. Does that mean that-"

He cut her off before she could finish. "I think you will be very useful in the future. It feels as though the Goddess herself wove our destinies together." A thought then occurred to him and he had to resist smacking the heel of his hand into his forehead at his own forgetfulness, "Tell me, you do have a name don't you?"

The girl stuttered but she finally choked out a single word. "Kasima." She blushed again as he looked her over, taking in as many details about her as he could.

"Well Kasima," he felt a smile curving his face, "I would prefer it if you called me Gorotdorf."


End file.
